From Asylum to Carlisle
by Vulpine Vixi
Summary: This is my tale of how Alice came to be a vampire, and her adventures between the time of leaving the asylum to living with the Cullen family. This is a fairly short story  hopefully  and in-line with canon.
1. Chapter 1 Darkness

This is a 'one-shot' that came into my head and thought I'd write-up quickly. It has ended up a lot longer than I expected (as there is 30 years to cover) and so I'm turning it into a short story but it will have multiple chapters. . I hope you enjoy it.

I've tried to use words that Alice would use (e.g. purse not handbag, silverware not cutlery/ utensils), and I hope they are current in America in 1920, but my spelling is of course UK English. And if that isn't enough to convince you I own none of this... Stephenie Meyer is the owner and master of this world. I am simply playing with her creations and earn nothing for this. You can give me money if you like but not for writing this. Just out of the goodness of your heart

**The Journey from Asylum to Carlisle**

**Chapter One- Darkness**

It is so dark here. There is nothing but nothing. No light, no room to do anything. I just sit here in the furthest corner from the door. I don't like to be here, but it is better than the alternative. Every day at the same hour, they open my door. The door is brown in the little light that comes from the florescent bulbs hanging from the low ceiling every few feet in the corridor outside. They take me through the grey corridor for 35 steps then we take the white door on the left, and go into a dull yellow room with a brown linoleum floor and a ceiling that was once white but now stained yellow. They then strap me into the horrible grey chair and I try not to think for an hour.

They try to talk to me, but I don't want to think. I don't want to think of anything. I want to go back to the dark room. The electricity pulsing through my hands, vibrating through my body and shocking my brain is a pain beyond belief, beyond reason, beyond bearing.

I long to die.

I see one friendly face. He is a beautiful man. I don't think he is very old. He has mainly grey hair on both sides of his face, and black hair covering the rest of his head. Despite that, he doesn't have a single wrinkle or crease on his face. It is perfectly symmetrical and smooth-looking. He is pale white- as white as the door of the room I refuse to think about. He is as tall as the door also. His eyes are the strangest colour I have ever seen. The colour of shelled walnuts. I see him every day… I think. He comes to see me, sits with me in the dark for a while and talks to me. I don't pay attention much. The blackness of the room dulls my senses and he often only sees me after I've been to visit the yellow room. I don't want to think after I have been in there.

Neither the darkness, nor the electric-shock treatments stop me seeing the things I see; the visions. They are not really visions. I just get the idea of something that will happen. I would try to give you an example, but I really can't remember many of them. I hate the 'visions'. They don't make sense. I think I tried to help people once, a long long time ago but the visions got me into more trouble. I wish they would just go away.

I have no idea how long I have been here. Time doesn't mean much to me any more. I can't count the days, and I refuse to count the number of treatments I have, if this is my best measure of time. I just keep my head down and stay in my own personal oblivion.

Time passes with no speed for me. Nothing comes quickly. Nothing comes slowly. Nothing really happens for me to have a measure of time.

Today seems different to usual. Today, someone is coming to see me. I know this. It does not comfort me. The man who will see me will mean me harm. I do not know what he will look like, but in the same way that I know things sometimes, I know that he will come. I also know that he will be a brown-haired man- a brunet- and he will have red eyes. This scares me but I cannot think clearly enough to scream.

I have just eaten. Like every other meal, it was bland, mushy and I had to eat it with my fingers in the dark. They know what I would do if I had silverware. I would find a way to kill myself. I finished the gloop, and left the flat plate in the usual spot and went to my corner. No- I could not think clearly. The food is drugged. The food is always drugged. They do that so that they can get the tray back out without fear of attack. Like I'm going to attack them! However I would run out if they gave me any opportunity.

The man is here- somewhere. I can feel it. Everything in me is telling me to run. The drugs are not yet wearing off, but the knowledge comes through loud and clear.

I can hear noises coming from outside. I cannot hear what they say, just that people are speaking. They avoid speaking in the grey corridor usually. I retreat as far into my corner as I can, tucking my knees against my chest and making myself as small as possible.

The door is flung open towards me. I look up into the bright light outside and it hurts my eyes. I can barely see what I know to be the truth- the eyes of the man in the doorway are bright red and alive with excitement. He draws in a deep rattling breath and grins.

One moment he was in the doorframe, and then before I realise any different, he has placed his hand on my cheek and is kneeling before me. He sucks in a moan and seems to try to put his lips near mine. He moves towards me slowly now, speaking so softly that I can barely hear him,

"Oh little-one. So… delicious" he whispers, to me I think. Maybe to himself? I don't know what he means… until I do. Realisation dawned on me like a slap. I had the knowledge suddenly that this was not a man, but a vile beast who intended to drink my blood and kill me.

As much as I wanted to die, I did not want this monster to kill me.

Before he had a chance though, a ripping thrashing sound came from overhead, and faster than a raging bull, moved miraculously through a chamber overhead, down some kind of stairwell I have never seen, and careened down the corridor towards me.

The monster beside me dropped his hand from my face and slid his feet into some kind of crouching position facing the door, ready to attack the raging bull that now stood in the doorway and slowly advanced. The beautiful man who often sat with me was here, but he did not look so beautiful now. His face was contorted into an evil grimace, his teeth brilliant white teeth sparkled, and pushed his lips back. A deep growl rolled in his throat and reverberated around the room.

"Leave Alice alone!" the last word pained my ears. He shot me a quick glance and pain showed in his face.


	2. Chapter 2 Thirst

This is a 'one-shot' that came into my head and thought I'd write-up quickly. It has ended up a lot longer than I expected (as there is 30 years to cover) and so I'm turning it into a short story but it will have multiple chapters. . I hope you enjoy it.

I've tried to use words that Alice would use (e.g. purse not handbag, silverware not cutlery/ utensils), and I hope they are current in America in 1920, but my spelling is of course UK English. And if that isn't enough to convince you I own none of this... Stephenie Meyer is the owner and master of this world. I am simply playing with her creations and earn nothing for this. You can give me money if you like but not for writing this. Just out of the goodness of your heart

**The Journey from Asylum to Carlisle**

**Chapter Two- Thirst**

Maybe I closed my eyes. Maybe I fainted. Maybe the scary red-eyed man hit me. I do not know. All I know is that as soon as I was aware of the next moment of time, all I knew was pain. Everything hurt. Every cell of my being burned. Maybe I screamed. I was not in control of any part of my body. Immeasurable pain and never ending darkness were all I knew. I do not know if my eyes were open or closed. It was as dark as it always is. It felt as though my body might be rocking, but I couldn't concentrate on the thought for even a moment to sense if it was movement or a reaction of my body to the pain. Someone nearby was whispering to me, but I could not really understand them for an immeasurable moment of time. The instant I could understand the words, and I knew the instant I was able to, there was nothing to hear. Suddenly everything seemed to come sharper into focus, despite the fact that all was darkness.

An echo seemed to roll around the room. Something loud had been occurring. It dawned on me that the echo was the sound of my own screams. I had not known I was screaming. Nothing else could be heard. No one was near me. No breathing. No heartbeat. No scuffling of footsteps. The pain still burned all over my body, but I could appreciate it and feel more than just the burning. I could feel the pain but be above it.

There is a new pain too- a searing burning in my throat. This pain is harder to ignore. It burns so much that I know I must find a way to soothe it, but I have no idea how. I try to push the pain aside for a few moments.

Another thing I have realised- my eyes are closed after all. I think about opening them, and the thought of opening them made them open instantly. I think that was very fast. The room I lay in is not familiar to me. It looks like some kind of wooden shack. Everything is dusty and unused, all except for the small cot on which I lay, which is adorned with fresh white linen. What on earth is going on? I can't get a grasp on anything. I can't think of a thing that I know. All I know is this moment. I know nothing from any period of time before this. Oh, maybe I can remember one thing. I can remember the name Alice. Is that my name? I think someone called me Alice. Yes. That sounds right. That's something at least. I have a name.

Oh, and something else too. It seems I have some clothes. I am wearing a cotton dress, in the palest shade of blue. Perhaps it looks white to some eyes, but I can see the slight blue tinge to the colour of the fabric. It is short-sleeved, high necked, plain and unflattering, but it is clothing. Oh, something else I know about myself... I have some kind of sense of style if I find this dress unflattering. I do not appear to have anything else here with me.

The burn in my throat suddenly makes me feel deranged. My knees feel like they should buckle and my head should roll on my shoulders with this kind of pain, but my body does not succumb to the normal reactions I expect of it. Why the burning? I do not understand it. It hurts so much.

I can see little in this room that may be mine. I think about sitting up on the cot, and it happens. I had sat up so fast that the cot tilted slightly under my weight. That unnerves me and I want to get up. I'm standing up next to the cot. This is strange. It is like my body is responding to my unconscious thoughts instead of my conscious ones, completing actions before I've even finished thinking about it. This is very strange. Yes. Concentrate on the strangeness, and not the burning... yes, avoid the thought of that.

There are more things in this room. There is a small purse hanging from the table. I cross the room to the purse. I imagined it would take me a few seconds and five or six steps. Before I thought I had taken one step, I had half crossed the space.

I deliberately slow down, taking each step slowly and purposefully. I look down at my legs at the same time. I nearly freak out! My legs are shining. They are actually glittering in the light that pours through the partially boarded up windows of this small wooden shack.

I want to look at myself in a mirror. I don't think there is one here. I'll have a look around in a moment. I want to get this purse. Is it mine? I don't think it is familiar. It is a light tan coloured leather satchel. Inside... wow! There is a sizable wad of money (somehow I know that if all of the bills are 20 dollars like they seem to be, there is $500 in the wad) and a small ornate hairbrush. That is all that's inside the purse. I pull the long strap of the purse over my left shoulder with my right hand, allowing the strap to snuggle against my neck and for the purse to rest lightly against my right side, so it is held in place firmly without my conscious effort.

That is all that's inside the room really. Everything else is thick with dirt and cobwebs and mouse droppings. I feel like I should leave, but I don't know where to go. I don't know where I am, I don't know who may be looking for me, if anyone. I'm scared and the burn in my throat will not let up. What does it mean?

I take in a deep breath of air, hoping to find some soothing from the relentless fiery burn in my throat, only to find something else. Something that cries out to me. I run the length of the room and wrench the door open before I have another thought or a second passes. Standing in the door frame, holding the door handle still with my hand, I catch the scent of the delicious smell again more powerful than before. It makes the pain in my throat increase. How was that possible? The thudding of the heart thickly pounded so close by, and now that I could see it, the heat of the body drew me in closer. I took a tentative step.

"Hello" the man said to me with a smile.

Why did he seem so delicious to me? All I could do was to follow my instincts. He must have seen something in my face that scared him. His cheeky flirty smile suddenly disappeared and genuine terror flitted across his face, draining his face of all colour. No matter. His throat still throbs with the pulsing blood. The blood that I know will soothe the pain in my throat.

I didn't even really need to think about it. It was very natural. Before I started to move, he turned and ran. I already knew how fast I was. I ran towards him, closing the distance in less than a second. I reached my hands out to him. He was still facing away from me, trying to outrun me. Foolish! I grasped his left arm with my left hand, and using the floor as a slight springboard, placed my feet at an angle and hopped upward, so that I could grasp his face with my right hand. Before he could utter a scream I lifted my head to his neck using my arms to lift myself up, and sunk my teeth into his collarbone. Oh the taste! The blood pumped into my mouth with force and I drank deeply. I could hardly think at all. All I knew was that the blood would satisfy me. Within my original tackle, I had not meant to topple the man. My weight and the loss of his blood seemed to do exactly that though. While I drank I barely noticed it, but the ground came up to meet me with gentle force. I lightly put my feet out to brace the impact. It felt like nothing- as simple as moving one foot in front of the other. His upper body cradled in my arms, his legs bent at the knees and mine lightly around him, keeping him still with no effort on my part, bracing his weight so that he did not fall and I did not topple over.

It's such a shame. He was so tall and muscular. It's a shame he did not hold more blood. I am still thirsty, but I know how to satisfy my hunger. Blood. I know not what creature I am, but I am a monster. This I know of myself. As if I needed no further proof, something new happened. I saw something vividly in my mind.


	3. Chapter 3 Visions

This is a 'one-shot' that came into my head and thought I'd write-up quickly. It has ended up a lot longer than I expected (as there is 30 years to cover) and so I'm turning it into a short story but it will have multiple chapters. . I hope you enjoy it.

I've tried to use words that Alice would use (e.g. purse not handbag, silverware not cutlery/ utensils), and I hope they are current in America in 1920, but my spelling is of course UK English. And if that isn't enough to convince you I own none of this... Stephenie Meyer is the owner and master of this world. I am simply playing with her creations and earn nothing for this. You can give me money if you like but not for writing this. Just out of the goodness of your heart

**The Journey from Asylum to Carlisle**

**Chapter Three- Visions**

It's such a shame. He was so tall and muscular. It's a shame he did not hold more blood. I am still thirsty, but I know how to satisfy my hunger. Blood. I know not what creature I am, but I am a monster. This I know of myself. As if I needed no further proof, something new happened. I saw something vividly in my mind.

I was suddenly facing a still image of a blond-haired man, with skin as pale as mine seems to be, crescent-shaped scars all over his face and a few on the parts of his arms I can see, and crimson eyes.

Shock! Despair! Horror! Intrigue. That was new! Although this man looked scary, I got a sense that he is an exceptional creature and one that I would meet and actually like. The image left me with a comfortable feeling- the feeling of knowing something unchangeable. Calmness. Relief...except the fact that I am seeing things! Shock, despair and horror again! To see such things is unexplainable! Was this something else that I have forgotten? What happened to me? What am I?

I have just realised, I am mostly satisfied now. I'm still quite... thirsty? Would that be right? But the burn in my throat has definitely tamed a little. Good. Hopefully I will not attack the next person I see. I can't leave this man lying here though.

I look back at the small shack. It is derelict and falling down. The man smells of alcohol, sweat and... What's that? Cigarettes. He must have something to light his cigarettes with. I decide to burn the body, and the shack down. No one would miss it. I just hope that it doesn't burn any of the nearby trees down too. I wouldn't want to cause a forest fire.

I intended to heave the man onto my shoulder but when I tried it, I realised it was unnecessary. He felt so light to me. I could tell that he weighed the weight of a normal 6ft man with large muscles- around 13stones in weight, but to my arms and shoulders he was not a burden. I lifted him easily onto my right shoulder and moved towards the doorway. It was only then that I realised the strange way my feet moved with each other. They tilted and weaved in a graceful pattern. I focussed on my feet as I moved, almost forgetting the man over my shoulder. It was almost a dance- it was a gentle progression on my form. I liked it. I decided to play it up, making my whole body fall into form with my feet. It felt very natural to glide the few steps. I got back to the door in a few short steps, and opened the door with my left hand. My right was gently bracing the weight of the unknown man on my shoulder.

I took a few steps into the shack and placed the man on the bed. I went through the man's pockets, finding a wallet containing a dollar and a few cents, a key, and a cigarette box. Inside the cigarette box, lay a narrow lighter. I took the meagre cash from the man; put his key back in his pocket and lit the lighter. It sparked up on the first try. I thrust the lighter at the waist of the man's denim jacket. It lit but barely. I still held onto it. I thrust it again at the neck of his jacket. This time, it quickly ignited catching his clothing and particularly the deep, messy crescent shaped wound in his neck which glistened with a translucent white substance. Something from my mouth? I touched one of my free fingers to my teeth and inspected the glistening substance there. It looked the same. I dabbed a little of the substance onto the man's face. It caught the flame a moment later and his face started to blister and crack. Whatever coats my teeth is extremely flammable. That is peculiar.

I left the shack quickly. If someone found the man soon, it might look as though he fell asleep with a cigarette and caught himself alight. I caught the scents on the air and could tell that no one was nearby. No human anyway. I whisked around to the back of the shack and saw the creature that I could smell. The man's horse was tied to a tree few hundred yards from the shack. When I got near to it, it attempted furiously to free itself from its restraints. It was scared of me. It didn't smell nearly as good as its owner had, but the blood pumping through its veins and the speed of its thumping heart made my throat burn again. Hadn't I thought about the pain of killing a man? Wouldn't this be easier on my conscience if I could do it? Make me less of a monster? Yes. But it smelled mildly repulsive. Mildly yes, but it still made my throat burn. I walked quickly to the horse, and so quickly that it probably didn't have time to be startled further, jumped in the air and landed lightly on the horses back, lying down with my face at the base of its neck. I sank my teeth in and they pierced the thick skin and fur with no difficulty. The blood tasted good. Nowhere near as good as the human blood had, but good enough. When the horse fell to the ground I did not attempt to stop it. I drank as long as my burning forced me to. That was until the very last drop of blood. I could not believe how much blood I had taken in, and to still feel the slight burn in my throat... what was I?

Whatever I was, I wanted to know. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me into the woods nearby. That was fast! Faster than I had anticipated. As I ran, I had several vivid images fly into my head. The first of a small one storey house, painted pale green with white windows and white shutters and a grey roof. The second told me that I should turn a different direction, which would point me northwards. The third was of the blonde, scarred man again. This time he was walking through a doorway towards me. The third was of another person of the palest skin. He has bronze coloured hair and an angelic face, and his eyes were butterscotch yellow. He was kneeling over some kind of large animal.

When I had been running for only a few minutes, I felt the need to stop. I was not fatigued in any way; I just felt the need to stop. I looked around and saw something interesting. A road crossed the forest ahead of me. That is what stopped me- a horse drawn carriage was passing through the road and the driver and the horses may have seen me if I had carried on at that point. I had heard some noises, but was not paying attention as I had my most recent vision at that point. I decided then and there that I should stop whatever I am doing whenever I have a vision and focus on it then. I ran closer to the road that passed through the deep forest and allowed them to pass.

I continued in this manner, running and listening, pausing whenever I had another vision and then continuing. I ran in this way for six hours. I came across five black bears as I progressed. One of them I drank from, shortly before the six hours were completed. It tasted better than the horse. It was still nowhere near the flavour of the man, but it was better. When I came close to leaving the forest, I felt the difference outside the cover of the trees. The sun had set in my run. Everything looked so clear. I was surprised. Nothing was obscured by the absence of the sun. Nothing, except my skin no longer glowed. That was a relief. I slowly emerged from the forest, not sure what to do as I was emerging into a town. I walked slowly through the town, trying to stay inconspicuous, and trying to match my pace to that of the people around me. There were not many out walking but there were some. They made my throat burn, even though I was so very full of blood. I chose to ignore it- to get to the place that I knew was not far. The house in my visions. Yes, visions for I had seen it again several times in my run. Each time it became clearer why I was seeing it. The house would be empty. The occupants had gone out. The man, Fredrick had taken his heavily pregnant wife to his sister's house. At 10:32 on the dot, his wife Lillian would go into labour. They would stay at the sister Margaret's house all night and Lillian would give birth to Ralph at 11:51 in the morning. They would not be back until 9:23 tomorrow evening. The house was only two streets from the forest, and was blocked from view of any neighbours by fifteen foot hedgerows.

I let myself into the house by way of a slightly opened window. It was not difficult for me to pull the window open more, and to lift myself inside. I also knew why I was here. The woman had a bag of clothing which was too small for her that she had tied up and was going to take to a neighbour's house for their daughter. I already knew the items that I would steal. First things first though- bathing is necessary.

I peeled off the bluish white dress, and ran a bath for myself. My skin was hard like marble, and had no kind of bodily waste on it; no dead skin cells, no sweat, however my skin could not repel mud and dirt and my hair was messed up from fighting with a bear. Neither the horse nor the man seemed to cause any damage to me, but the bear also shredded the dress a little. No loss there as ugly as the dress was. After bathing, I cleaned the bath and made sure I left everything as I found it in there, and then grabbed the items from the tied up bag which I knew would never be missed.

I pulled on the hard-wearing grey skirt, a slim grey top, a black jacket with large gold buttons and a grey and black cap which covered my forehead. I had brushed my hair and didn't like the short length of it. I found it easy to emulate the hair style of the women I had seen on the streets with my length of hair though. I used my fingers to add small waves into my hair, and used large amounts of hair products that I found in the bathroom to stick the hair together to make it fall closer to my head.

I took the time to look at myself in the mirror. I think I like what I see. Despite the fiery red eyes, my features all look very pretty; my hair is deepest black and now curls in little waves against the contours of my head. My body looks small. Somehow I feel this is permanent, so I don't think I'll be able to put on weight to fill out a bit.

I spent the night and the next day at the house. I would be gone after nightfall, and before the Richards family returned. I spent the day reading through two of the books that stocked the bookshelves, and having visions.


	4. Chapter 4 Looking for Jasper

This is a 'one-shot' that came into my head and thought I'd write-up quickly. It has ended up a lot longer than I expected. There will be one more chapter, entitled 'Love'. I hope you enjoy this fanfiction.

I've tried to use words that Alice would use (e.g. purse not handbag, silverware not cutlery/ utensils), and I hope they are current in America in 1920, but my spelling is of course UK English. And if that isn't enough to convince you I own none of this... Stephenie Meyer is the owner and master of this world. I am simply playing with her creations and earn nothing for this.

**The Journey from Asylum to Carlisle**

**Chapter Four- Looking for Jasper**

This was my pattern of life for some time. I spent the days hiding indoors, away from the sunlight, mostly sticking to Louisiana and Mississippi but venturing further from time to time, staying out of the sight of people during the day, either in their houses or deep in De Soto national forest or Bienville national forest, hunting. The evenings I spent in libraries, around people in general and avoiding having to pay for anything. I only had $500 to last me for the foreseeable future. Of course, my foresight was greater than most people's so I knew exactly when I should cough up. At any time of the day or night, I could have a vision and often did. I was learning to use them to my advantage when they showed me a free house, or when they showed me attacking a human. Most of the time.

More than once, I attacked a human. By the time I reached eight years as a blood-drinker, I had killed 17 humans. Each was more regrettable than the last. Once was to save a human. That one I did not regret as much as the others.

Overall, those first few years were simple. I drank when needed... mostly on animal blood, I read when I could (mostly romance novels), I stole clothing as and when needed… and I learned whatever my visions wanted to tell me. Each vision of the blonde, scarred man and the bronze haired, golden eyed boy showed me new things about them. There were also others- the golden-eyed boy was not alone. He lived with others- with another man and a woman. They all had golden eyes.

I know knew this was because of the choice of drinking blood. My eyes were now a golden colour. After each of the deaths of the further 16 humans, my eyes had changed to a burgundy colour, but faded back to golden within weeks of drinking only animal blood. After the first year, I had no need to drink so much. I now drank maybe once a week, sometimes once every two weeks. I started to notice that my eyes faded to black the thirstier I became, but it was also harder to control myself around humans which is why I did not let myself get that far very often.

I had learned much about the small 'family', including all of their names, their interests and the fact that they lived as a family unit, moving around every few years to new locations but staying in a permanent residence throughout that time. The idea enthralled me.

I had also seen that the bronze haired boy- Edward was going to leave the couple to go on his own very shortly, to hunt those humans with evil intentions. He would leave within the next few weeks, but he hadn't firmly decided. He would travel randomly around the northern states mostly and venture into Tennessee in roughly six months. I would stay away from him. I already knew that Edward could hear the thoughts of people around him. I wasn't meant to meet him yet. I would travel North East and head towards Knoxville. As soon as I decided this, new visions started to come, informing me of different places, things I might see, things I might change. I had started to get a grasp on my visions by this point. I understood that I could change events by making a decision and that others decisions affected the course that would happen.

By this time, I had also gained a view of time through newspapers and the introduction of television sets into the occasional wealthier family homes. It was in the spring of 1928 when Edward finally left Carlisle and Esme to go ff on his own. It was at roughly the same time that I found out about the stock market. I invested the $405 remaining from the initial money that I had, and using my visions, I started to gain money, and was able to afford to develop my new obsession- fashion.

Within a few short months, I managed to quadruple my cash into $1620 and I went out and bought myself some nicer clothing. I could finally buy them, instead of stealing slightly outdated clothing from charity bags and the backs of people's wardrobes.

It was almost exactly the same time that Edward returned to Carlisle and Esme and they welcomed him back eagerly. He returned with deep red eyes, but by late summer, his eyes had returned to golden butterscotch.

The visions also showed me getting closer to Jasper. It would not be long before I found out how to find him. I could feel it in the air, taste it on my tongue... but it was always slightly out of reach.

Late one evening in November of 1933, I had a fully coloured, fully moving vision which lasted for almost five minutes. The vision was only slightly earlier than the events themselves.

A beautiful blonde woman had been beaten and violated by a group of men, and left for dead on the streets, when a racing Carlisle reached her and saved her in the only way possible- he turned her into a blood-drinker. I had by this time learned the word 'vampire' but it didn't come to mind when I thought of what we were.

In 1935- just over two years after seeing Rosalie being created, I saw a less distinct vision- a huge man with black hair was being mauled by a bear, and was saved by Rosalie. It was indistinct because it was further away in time. It seemed almost certain to happen.

Two weeks later, I was trying on a new mint green Chanel dress with matching hat and jacket, and I had a clearer vision- Rosalie saving and picking up the black haired man and sprinting with him for hundreds of miles to reach Carlisle to change him. The care and devotion in the image was so very sweet. I wondered if I would love like that one day.

In April of 1937 my visions of Jasper changed. Not only could I sense more about him, I could sense where he would be- where I would meet him and roughly when! I immediately decided to travel to New Jersey, even though I knew it would take Jasper about three years to reach the diner in my vision. I could travel slowly and then wait.

Perhaps I didn't travel slowly enough. Despite staying in various towns for a few days to a few weeks at a time and stopping frequently, I reached New Jersey just before the commencement of 1938. Obviously I was very eager. I could already see that Jasper would mean something to me. I decided to stick around. I waited in New Jersey, hovering around Philadelphia, hunting as little as I could without getting too thirsty.

Patience is a virtue- one I do not seem to have too much of. Over two years is a long time to wait, but I managed it.

As summer started in 1940, I started to visit the diner that I knew I would meet Jasper in. Every day moment of every day that I could go out in public in, I spent my time waiting in the diner until closing time. It took over three months of waiting. I had read through 30 books, and sat over 98 mugs of coffee that I watched grow cold and then were thrown away at the end of my vigil.

On September 4th, I waited as impatiently as ever. This time I was sitting at the counter, chatting with the fry-cook when I felt the draught of the door opening. I looked around to see what I already knew. A tall, beautiful blonde creature walked through the door. His upper body was covered in crescent shaped scars. I had seen him too many times in my visions for it to frighten me. I hopped up quickly, a smile already in place across my face and quickly walked to him. I spoke without thinking,

"You've kept me waiting a long time."

He looked taken aback. I think I startled him.

"I'm sorry ma'am"

I offered him my hand gently, hoping to reconcile with him and to help him understand.

He paused for the smallest of moments, and then a light came into his eyes. His lips tentatively pulled themselves into a smile, as though they were not used to completing such an action, and he slowly took my hand with his. He looked back up into my eyes and I realised what the emotion was that transpired there, hope. I felt hope radiate through my body as well. We were both now hopeful. We left the diner together, walking out into the rain holding hands.


	5. Chapter 5 Love

This is the final chapter of my short story (I now laugh at the idea that this was meant to be a one-shot!)

I've tried to use words that Alice would use (e.g. purse not handbag, silverware not cutlery/ utensils), and I hope they are current in America in 1920, but my spelling is of course UK English. And if that isn't enough to convince you I own none of this... Stephenie Meyer is the owner and master of this world. I am simply playing with her creations and earn nothing for this.

**The Journey from Asylum to Carlisle**

**Chapter Five- Love**

Jasper and I travelled together, learning all about each other and I tried to help him to convert to animal blood. He wanted to, but found it difficult.

I doubted I would ever forget the first time we hunted together.

"Alice, I'm not sure I can do this. They smell… revolting."

"Come on Jazz. It's not that bad. They aren't human but they have blood and its blood we need to survive. You won't have to feel guilty… you won't have to share their feelings of terror as you destroy them. Just the pleasure of the hunt and the kill with no other effects."

"Except the smell. And the taste…" He whispered back to me. I frowned at him.

"Just ignore the smell. They taste fine. Come on, they are big… bigger than some humans. They'll probably put up a fight!"

Jasper smiled at that. "Will they scratch me?"

"I'm sure of it. And they'll try to take a chunk out of you if they can."

Jasper laughed merrily, seeming to like the idea after all.

"Didn't you ever eat crocodile as a human?"

He just laughed harder in response. The crocs nearby varied in size but the largest was about 6ft in length. We had travelled specifically to Florida to see the crocodiles together, and hadn't fed since we met in the diner.

Jasper decided maybe he should go for it after all. He shrunk down into a crouch and slowly advanced on the crocodile.

I rolled my eyes at him. He **would **try to make the croc think it had the upper hand rather than just whip over there and take it.

Jasper crept up to the croc, staying in a crouched position. As he got closer, six of them started to converge on him. He took three of them by the neck in one grab, and drained all three, one after the other in quick succession. After he had drained all three, he dove into the water to wrestle with a forth.

When he emerged from the water a short while later, he was dripping wet, with his clothes in shreds but a grin plastered his face.

"They didn't taste so bad, and they are definitely quite fun!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"You just wait until we hunt some lions… you'll have even more fun." Jasper grinned, a beautiful wide grin that would have made my heart throb and my knees weak if either reaction were possible. I settled for pouncing on him at speed and kissing his cheek.

Not only was that the first time that Jasper realised he could enjoy drinking from animals, it was also the first time he uttered the words, "You are amazing- I think I'm falling in love with you". At his words, and from my vantage point of my legs being wrapped around his waist and my face at the height of his, I placed a hand on his face and turned it lightly to myself and tilted my head ever so slightly. He bent into the kiss and our lips met tenderly. After a moment of the sweet kiss, his large hand was on the back of my head and firmly grasped me, his mouth opened and closed around mine, caressing my lips. He gasped into my mouth and became more forceful as our passion for each other increased. He pressed me against a young tree, which was no competition for Jasper and I. It cracked and toppled over. We almost went with it, but Jasper caught his bearings and laughed it off as he stopped our progress.

"Note to self- don't rely on trees to hold us up!"

We laughed until Jasper stopped himself. His eyes became clear and he pulled my face around to meet his again, and he kissed me almost as forcefully.

We travelled together for eight years, falling more and more in love with each other whilst travelling around the Americas, using my visions to avoid his previous 'family' which he told me about. I told him all about my visions and what I had been up to since I awoke on that day that my memories started from.

In the fall of 1948, when Jasper and I were visiting New York, I had a new vision. It was about the Cullen family again. This time there was something quantifiably different. My vision told me where they were! They were south of Bozeman, Montana. I could see their house. I could see me and Jasper going to see them. I told him immediately that we were to live with the Cullen's and that they were amazing people. He already knew this, after everything I had told him about the Cullen's. He agreed instantly.

We journeyed quickly, stopping rarely but as frequently as Jasper needed, to feed in national forests. Jasper unfortunately had a slip up as we were running by a fishing lake. Two men were night-fishing. We had not realised how close to the fishing lake we journeyed, but when we were less than 200 yards from them, Jasper suddenly turned and darted for the men. I attempted to grab him, running for his shoulders. He twisted away from me.

I continued to run for him, intending to grab him by his ankles, but he managed to jump away. It is miraculous that within the throes of the hunt- the natural instinct to protect his own prey, that he didn't hit me or hurt me in anyway. As he reached the men, grabbing one by the neck with one hand at the same moment that his teeth found the jugular of the second man, I vowed to be faster and more surprising in the future. I would stop him next time. He wouldn't have to go through the pain of what this was doing to him again. When he had drained both men, he was thoroughly depressed and apologetic. I took his hand gently and stared into his eyes. They were red now, but they were full of remorse.

"I know. It'll be ok. I'll stop you next time- you'll see."

He tilted his head down to my face and gently kissed my nose before kissing my lips.

"I know you'll try" he mumbled sadly.

I frowned at that but we took each others hands and covered the tracks of the killings, and then ran from the fishing lake.

When we reached the Cullen house near the boundary to the Gallatin National Forest we smiled nervously at each other and approached the huge house. Jasper knocked on the door, holding my hand. We each had a large rucksack across our backs and broad smiles on our faces.

The door opened tentatively. A beautiful face peered through the door, with golden tendrils floating out to meet us.

"Hello Rosalie. Nice to meet you. I'm Alice and this is Jasper. Are Carlisle or Edward here?"

Rosalie's face was dumbstruck. If she had not had such composure, her mouth may have dropped open in the way that her eyes seemed to widen.

Carlisle and Esme, having heard us came down the stairs of their grand house, and met us in the doorway.

"Hello. Do I know you?" Carlisle asked in a polite way.

Jasper grinned at me and I laughed lightly, hopefully in a kind way.

"Probably not, but I know you! It'll take a while to explain."

"Please come in to the living room and do explain."

It took a while to explain my journeys, preying on animals on my own, finding Jasper, and most importantly, telling him about my visions and how my visions had told me that both Jasper and I would move in with the Cullen's and be part of their family. I hoped that it wasn't presumptuous or unkind throwing ourselves at him, and putting Carlisle in a position to have no time to think about it.

I needn't have worried though. The more I spoke, the wider Carlisle's grin grew, especially when I went into detail about what my visions had shown me about this family.

"Amazing. That truly is a powerful gift."

To prevent Jasper feeling in any way inadequate, I went into detail about Jasper's power also, and how it had been very useful in our time travelling together. It would have been more effective if Jasper's eyes were not quite so red, but Carlisle understood. I think he was even surprised that my eyes were gold, let alone if both of ours had been when we'd arrived.

Carlisle insisted that Jasper and I move in immediately.

"Ok. Can we have Edwards room?" I answered quickly, "It is a large room, and he is only one person and there are two of us… he could have the blue spare room? He won't mind. I can already see he will be fine with it" I grinned at Carlisle.

Carlisle laughed heartily at that comment.

"If Edward will be fine with it…" he trailed his hand through the air as if to tell us to proceed. Within 15 minutes Jasper and I had removed all of Edward's belongings from the large room and put them all into the garage for him to organise at his leisure.

Our room had a spectacular view of the forest and Jasper and I moved our meagre possessions into the room, immediately deciding that we needed a bed and I decided that I needed to get the largest wardrobe possible and to fill it with clothes. I did not feel bad, because over the years since I had first started playing with the stock market, I had managed to accumulate over $860,000 and had hardly spent anything.

We had a good life with the Cullen's. Edward in particular really helped me in trying to keep Jasper's appetite under control and we all became great friends. In 1951, Jasper and I were married. Our love was intense and we grew to love each other more every day.

I had found my happy ever after.


End file.
